


Promises

by often_adamanta



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, The Sixth Sense (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-21
Updated: 2008-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beta'd by <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_violettefemme"></span><a href="http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/"><b>violettefemme</b></a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/profile)[**violettefemme**](http://violettefemme.livejournal.com/)

Orli stretches out on the mattress, limbs flexing and tangling in the deep red sheets. He shudders and reaches for the blanket abandoned at the foot of the bed. "Leave it," Elijah murmurs, staring.

Orli's eyes flash open, then flutter close as he smiles. "You again."

"Were you expecting someone else?" Elijah inquires, tracing the bones of Orli's ankle.

"Not really, no," Orli replies. Then, "Are you going to fuck me?"

Elijah smirks, and Orli opens his eyes enough to see the expression, inhaling sharply as Elijah's tongue circles his full lips. "Much too hasty," Elijah chastises. "I don't know that you've earned that."

Orli whines as Elijah positions himself, body draped over Orli's legs until his mouth is level with Orli's cock. He's wearing a leather cuff on each wrist, and they scrape against the skin of Orli's hips. Orli's warm brown eyes watch him avidly, and Elijah lets the pink tip of his tongue poke through his full lips before moving closer and applying it to the base of Orli's cock just above his balls. Orli's groan echoes through the mostly empty room, and Elijah's thumbs run in appreciation over the sensitive skin where Orli's thighs join his hips. Outside the bedroom, Orli is too quiet and contained, making it even more amazing that Elijah can break him open in these moments, all unrestrained reaction and lust.

He keeps on licking and tasting until Orli's cock is fully hard, and then swallows him down as far as he can, one hand making up the difference with the other still smoothing over Orli's skin, feeling the shimmer of flexing muscles and the waves of goosebumps as he pulls sensations to the surface.

Elijah pulls off when he feels Orli's breath start to gasp and his balls draw up to his body. "Don't you come," he warns sharply, and Orli grabs at his cock, fingers brushing Elijah's face in his haste, and _squeezes_ to stop himself.

"Bastard," Orli breathes out as soon as he's able and slowly loosens his grasp on himself.

"I'm not done with it," Elijah says lowly with a grin, the words both teasing and sincere. He pulls himself up and wiggles out of his favorite and threadbare pair of jeans, the only thing he hadn't shucked in the doorway. He spies a small bottle off to the side, half hidden in the sheets, and snatches it up as he settles himself more comfortably between Orli's legs, causing them to spread wider.

"You weren't expecting anyone, so this must have been just for you," Elijah murmurs as he coats his fingers in the lube, drawing Orli's attention away from his examination of Elijah's pale, newly exposed skin. "Stretched out in bed, naked, jerking off." Elijah fists Orli's cock once, mixing the lube with his saliva and Orli's own fluids. "Planning on shoving those long fingers up your ass, fucking yourself?" Elijah fits actions to words and presses two fingers into Orli, who lets out a sharp whine and pushes down on them. "Were you?" Elijah asks again, voice rough and intent.

"Yes," Orli gasps out, neck arching and exposing his long throat against the pillows.

Elijah's fingers twist. "I hope you don't mind my interruption, then. Sure this is what you want?"

"Yes."

Elijah adds more lube and watches his fingers where they disappear up into Orli's body. "Ready for my cock?"

" _Yes_ ," Orli repeats for the third time, with emphasis, and moving his legs even further apart, which is too much for Elijah to deny even if that had been his plan.

Orli's breath is panting quickly in and out as Elijah pushes inside, clearly about to come soon, which was exactly what Elijah had hoped when he'd started this, knowing with one glance at the picture Orli made that he wasn't going to last long, no matter what they did. He fucks Orli with as much skill as he can dredge up from his lust fogged brain, caught up in the pleasure/pain of fucking Orli while keeping ruthless control of his protesting body. When Orli comes, Elijah gratefully follows, feeling as if he'd slipped out of his skin altogether.

After a few, long minutes, Elijah moves up to settle beside Orli in the bed, kissing him shallowly as if in greeting, as if they hadn't just well and truly fucked. Orli rolls on his side to face him, muscles twitching slightly in protest. He catches one of Elijah's leather encased wrists and deepens the kiss before retreating again, keeping his grip on Elijah.

"You don't mind that I came over like this, do you?" Elijah almost whispered. "I just wanted to see you."

"After that, I might agree to anything," Orli said, sounding as if speech was still a bit beyond him. "But no. You, I don't mind."

Elijah smiled, and let them drift off toward sleep.

\-----

They're sitting in a coffee shop together. Orli looks like he hasn't slept in a week, and Elijah feels a little guilty about keeping him awake for even the short time he did last night. Orli orders a double espresso something but Elijah waves the waitress away. He's never liked coffee. The girl hardly glances at him, though -- not that he can blame her. Even with deep circles under his eyes, Orli is still gorgeous.

She smiles when she brings it back, but Orli keeps his eyes firmly on his journal, giving her a shaky nod and nothing else.

Elijah studies him openly, not really caring if Orli looks up and sees him, but also knowing that won't happen. Orli is fanatical in his attention to that journal. It's worn on the edges and covered in dark red leather and Orli writes in a tiny, messy shorthand that only he can read. Elijah had tried once, when Orli'd left it open on his kitchen table in a rare moment of carelessness, but Elijah couldn't make heads or tails of the mixed up letters.

"I thought we could go for dinner or something on Friday," Elijah suggests.

Orli's eyes dart up to his face and then back down to his journal. He hunches his shoulders up and then releases them in what Elijah supposes might be a shrug.

Orli refuses to talk when they're in crowded public places, as if in the press of bodies there are people waiting to catch his words and use them against him.

Elijah worries about Orli's paranoia, a lot sometimes, but he's messed up enough himself not to pass judgment.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Elijah warns him, and Orli's mouth curves into a tiny smile.

He drains the rest of his coffee and they stand and leave together, Orli holding the door and looking back to make sure Elijah is following him. Elijah entwines their hands together as they walk, and Orli's fingers press against his in quiet reassurance.

\-----

Elijah doesn't like going to his apartment much anymore. A few months ago, he and his roommate Dom had a giant fight, and nothing has been the same since. It hurts a little more each time he comes back, like the time he'd found the fliers looking for a new roommate which Dom hadn't told him about. He can only imagine that he's still allowed to live here because Dom hasn't found a replacement yet and can't afford the rent, but that's just a guess. Dom's never mentioned the fliers, so Elijah hasn't either.

Dom's alone when Elijah walks in, and he's smoking, but that's definitely not cigarettes Elijah smells. Dom's eyes are completely glazed over, so far gone he doesn't even register Elijah's presence. Elijah leaves him to it. There's no sense trying to talk to him right now.

His own room is a mess, papers and cds scattered over every surface. In contrast, his mattress is empty with only a fitted sheet on it. Billy must have come by and been so overcome by the mess that he'd run a load of sheets and towels for them and then gotten distracted. It's happened before. Elijah's too tired to make the bed right now, though. He just lies down and stares out the window at the few stars he can see through the thin layer of clouds. He pushes play on his stereo, but nothing happens, and when he looks, the display is dark. It's been unplugged again. Elijah sighs heavily and rolls over, hoping for sleep. He'll fix it later.

\-----

On Friday, he finds Orli sitting alone on his couch with a container of Chinese takeout.

"Did you forget we were going out?" Elijah asks mildly as he leans against the door frame.

The expression on Orli's face is so startled and bewildered that Elijah knows that's what happened no matter what Orli will say.

"Oh," Orli says, and then begins to fiddle with the chopsticks. "Sorry, yeah, I did forget. And I'm not really feeling all that well."

Elijah sighs, part exasperation and more worry, because it doesn't appear that Orli's slept in the few days since he's last seen him. "Well, I don't mind staying in. Or would you rather I go?" He tries to be neutral about it, but he's really afraid that Orli will say yes because he's afraid of Orli being alone right now.

"You could... You could stay," Orli says finally, mouth curving into that small, crooked smile that Elijah loves so much.

"Good," Elijah says, and comes and sits on the couch next to Orli, wrapping an arm around him. "I want to. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Orli's smile wobbles a bit at that, so Elijah says, "Want to watch a movie?" to distract him. They normally have a good-natured argument about what to watch, Elijah being a fan of horror and slasher films and Orli hating them, but this time Elijah just watches silently as Orli fishes for the remote and starts whatever comedy film is already in there, which Elijah honestly can't remember if he's seen before or not.

Orli leans into him, head on his shoulder. He takes another few bites of his Chinese. "I wish I knew what you needed," Orli tells him softly.

"I need you," Elijah whispers back and presses his lips against the top of Orli's head.

\-----

He hears Dom come in and considers getting up from his spot on the floor, plugging in his stereo again, and finally having it out with him. Then he hears that Billy is there too, and that they're fighting, so he stays where he is and shamelessly eavesdrops.

"I don't want to hear it!" Dom shouts.

"Tough shit," Billy tells him evenly. "You need to hear this. You are falling apart, Dom, and I can't just sit back and watch anymore." Silently, Elijah agrees with him. "You missed work yesterday. Were you really feeling sick or did you sit around and smoke all day? Or have you already moved on to the harder stuff? Should I be checking you for needle marks now instead?"

"Stop," Dom begs sharply, "Just stop."

There's a rustle of fabric and then, "Move in with me."

"We've talked about this. I can't just -- I can't just leave."

"Yes," Billy says firmly. "Yes, you can. And I think you should, it's not healthy living like this."

"Are you even thinking," Dom begins, and has to pause for what Elijah alarmingly realizes is sob, "Are you even thinking about--"

"No," Billy answers, understanding even though Dom can't bring himself to finish. "I'm thinking about you."

Billy should be thinking about Dom, and Elijah agrees with that, too. He can't help but wonder, though, where that leaves him in all of this.

\-----

When he comes to check on Orli the next day, he's nowhere to be found.

Elijah figures he's running errands or perhaps making another trip for Chinese and almost leaves again, thinking to maybe call next time instead of just showing up, but then decides to check the bathroom. He's come home to find Dom sprawled unconscious on the bathroom floor a few times, after all, and Orli'd said he wasn't feeling well.

He knocks gently at the door, and when there's no answer, he opens it gently, peering inside.

Orli is in the bathroom, although he's not unconscious. He's sitting, fully dressed, in the empty bathtub, a red throw from the living room wrapped tightly around him, head resting on his knees. Candles decorate every surface, from tea lights to squat disks to tall pillars, all lit and giving the room an orange glow.

"Orli?" he calls out softly, but Orli doesn't respond, so he shuts the door behind him. "Hey," he tries again. "Orli? Are you alright?" He comes closer, being very careful of all the candles. "I think this might be a fire hazard," he teases softly, but Orli still doesn't respond. He kneels down next to Orli and looks at him across the line of flame on the edge of the tub.

Orli finally looks up, and one of his eyes is black. Parallel scratches run down the length of his neck and disappear beneath the shirt he's wearing.

"Who did this?" Elijah snaps instantly, anger and concern making his voice hard.

Orli just shakes his head, candlelight flickering off his curls, puts his head down on his knees again and starts to shake and shake and shake.

Elijah takes a deep breath and, very carefully, climbs into the tub with Orli. He wraps Orli up in his arms as well as he can, a little awkward and his leather cuffs catching on the texture of the knitting, and leans his forehead against Orli.

"I'm sorry," Elijah says then, "I'm sorry if I scared you. But you have to tell me what going, Orli. You have to. Because I'm so worried about you."

Silence for a long while, but slowly the shudders wracking Orli's body reduce down to a constant tremble and he breathes out, "All right." A deep breath. "All right."

\-----

Elijah makes sure that every candle in the bathroom is out before they move into Orli's tiny kitchen where Orli makes himself a cup of tea and Elijah sits at the table and waits, eyes tracking every motion.

"I can tell you," Orli says once he's seated, looking at the tea and not at Elijah, "But you won't believe me without proof. I told my mom when I was seventeen." He sighs, and takes a sip. "I got out of the institution a year later, and she still won't speak to me."

It's much worse than he figured, then. This doesn't sound like the scary ex-boyfriend or neighborhood gay basher he'd imagined. He remains quiet, letting Orli get the words out in his own time.

"I can tell you, but you aren't going to like it," Orli says, and then looks up at Elijah with something dark in his eyes that lets Elijah know he's deadly serious. "You still want to know?"

Elijah reaches across the table and takes one of Orli's hands in his. "I want to help you," Elijah says, and thinks he's never spoken truer words in his life. He already knows that Orli is different and messed up, but so is he, and he's been wanting to get inside Orli's head since he met him.

Orli's other hand abandons the tea and covers their entwined fingers. "I took me a while to figure out what had happened with you," Orli says softly, and Elijah frowns in confusion. "You don't look sick, no marks of any kind... but then, I realized that you never get flushed when we... And no matter how embarrassed you get, you never blush." His fingers begin to fiddle with the leather cuff on his wrist, turning it gently. "And you never take these off..." Orli says, and then does, unsnaps that one and then pulls it away so that Elijah's wrist is exposed. He uses Elijah's own grip to turn their hands so that the inside is up, facing Elijah, and he gasps.

His wrist is cut open, flesh ragged and red, severed almost down to the bone. He wrenches his hand out of Orli's grasp and touches -- but it's real, really there. He tears off the second cuff, and this wrist is cut, too. The memories hit him, then, of stripping and crawling into bed. He'd stared out at the stars for a long time and then taken a razor blade and carefully, almost casually, cut his wrists, just like he'd always pictured it. Blood flowed and soaked into the dirty sheets and the bed below and the world got colder and fuzzier and then... and then.

Elijah, almost in a daze, reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a thin, metal razor blade, stained with rust and dried blood. He sets it on the table top with an unsteady hand. It doesn't even look all that sharp.

He looks up at Orli, who's shivering uncontrollably, breathing coming out in foggy bursts, and watching him wearily.

"I'm the reason it's always so cold here," he says, eyes catching on the blanket wrapped around Orli's shoulders. He feels like the world has shattered apart and been put back together, where it's now completely _wrong_ but at the same time makes sense. "Because I'm -- dead."

"You hardly ever make it cold," Orli reassures him lowly, and the subtle emphasis on 'you' sends Elijah's mind skittering off again as even more things come together.

"That's what happened to your eye?" he asks.

Orli doesn't answer right away. He picks up both of Elijah's cuffs and snaps them back on as if he finds the jagged wounds on Elijah's wrists as disturbing as Elijah does. "People can be violent and cruel whether or not they're alive." His thumbs make circles in the back of Elijah's hands. "They can also be like you. It took me a long time to realize that they come to me for help, because they need something. But it's -- difficult."

Elijah looked at his bruised face and thought that might be the understatement of the century.

"I've been trying to figure out how to help you, what you need, but..."

Elijah doesn't have an answer for that unvoiced question. "I need to think," he says instead, and goes into the other room to do it, taking the biting cold of these disturbing revelations with him.

\-----

Orli is sitting on the couch when he comes out of the bedroom to find him. "I've thought of a couple of things that would help," Elijah tells him, and Orli appears both relieved and upset at this pronouncement. "But the biggest thing would be this: I want you to promise me that you won't do it."

"Do what?" Orli asks, but Elijah can tell by the way Orli won't meet his eyes that he understands.

"Kill yourself," Elijah says bluntly, and Orli flinches.

"How do you..."

"How do I know you want to?" Elijah finishes when Orli trails off. "Because you look like I used to," Elijah admits. "All crazy ghost weirdness aside, I think that was the real reason I was drawn to you." Elijah pauses. "I felt so alone, so completely and irreversibly alone, Orli, and I couldn't take it another minute. I never want anyone else to feel like that." He cups the side of Orli's face, leather cuff pressing against his jaw. "I know that it can be scary and horrible. I couldn't even handle a normal life, so I can't imagine how difficult it is for you. But, Orli, I have made that mistake, and I'm here on the other side of it saying, don't do it. Killing yourself won't make it go away, won't make it any better."

"What will?" Orli whispers, leaning into Elijah's hand.

"I don't know what will help you," Elijah confesses. Then, "You're what changed that for me."

Orli gives a shocked laugh that is well on it's way to becoming a sob.

"Promise me," Elijah demands.

"I promise." His voice breaks and he clears his throat. "But it's going to be harder than you think."

Elijah leans forward and presses a soft kiss against Orli's mouth. "I'll help," he reassures, making his own promise, and kisses him again.

\-----

Orli knocks on the door to the dingy looking apartment and gives Elijah an unimpressed look. "You lived here?"

"Shut up," Elijah says, but he's grinning. "Like your poky little flat is any better."

Dom answers the door before Orli can respond, rubbing bloodshot eyes and looking generally horrible. "Hello?"

"Hi," Orli says with a sympathetic smile. "Dominic, right?" Dom give him a sleepy and confused nod. "Um, sorry, you don't know me, but I was assigned Elijah's desk at work, and when I was moving some things about, I found this." He holds out the note that Elijah had spent the last week agonizing over. "I thought it might be important, considering..."

Dom's fingers shake as he reaches out and takes the letter, then touches his name penned in familiar handwriting. Elijah can see a stack of boxes in the apartment through the open door and smiles.

"I hope it helps," Orli offers finally, and then moves away, leaving Dom standing in the doorway completely bewildered. Elijah follows him out. He'd said his last goodbye in the letter. There's nothing more he can do.

\-----

The coffee shop is practically empty, so Orli actually risks speaking to him in a low murmur. "Not that I'm complaining, but I figured now that you'd finished up your business, you'd be, well. Ready to move on."

Elijah shrugs. "I doubt it will make much difference when I go, so I'll wait until we're both ready for that." Elijah smiles at Orli's ill-concealed relief.

The waitress approaches with Orli's coffee. "Thanks," he says, and she nods, but Orli had clearly meant it for Elijah.

Elijah's smile morphs into a mischievous grin. "Also, now that I've figured out that no one can see me but you, we have to go out in public more so that I can try to make you laugh at nothing and seem like a crazy person. Oh man, and I could totally strip for you, anywhere, and no one would know!"

Orli sputters into his coffee.

"Get you anything else?" The waitress asks, smiling with a bit more enthusiasm than Elijah liked.

Orli shakes his head. Elijah glares, and she shivers as she turns away. Orli give him a warning look before digging out his journal. Elijah leans back in his chair so that their knees are pushed together, looks out the window at the stars, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at livejournal [here](http://often-adamanta.livejournal.com/193491.html).


End file.
